


Loop

by JoAsakura



Series: Sunbreaker: The Book of Mouse [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, time travel is a real bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: The present is the past is the future as Mouse and Saint meet each other again for the first time.
Relationships: Male Guardian & Saint-14 (Destiny)
Series: Sunbreaker: The Book of Mouse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1130612
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Saint

It would be so easy to drop the ward of dawn, Saint-14 thinks as the spider tank bashes another round of mortar against it. Gepetto is pumping Light into him as fast as she can, both of their unnatural forms screaming from the strain of it. The Fallen are firing , ammo slugs flattening against the barrier, slashing and stabbing and cutting and he screams with impotent rage.

It would be so easy, but he can’t. Each moment he hold on is another moment someone remembers the faces of the colonists he swore to protect. Failed to protect. 

But the Ward is failing. He can feel the cracks in the woven strands of Void Light spreading and soon, Gepetto will be spent, he’ll be spent and then Saint-14 will just be one more Guardian lost.

“Saint-14! Active Guardian incoming!” 

To a human, a Ghost sounds just like anyone else. But to a Guardian, the difference is clear as the Traveler itself. And Saint’s momentary relief curdles immediately into panic.

“NO! It’s too dangerous!” He tries to scream, but it’s just a croak out of his exhausted vocal simulators.

“Don’t worry, we got this,” the Ghost says and above him, a second star blazes in the Mercurian sky. A falling star, a meteor that crashes into the ground, kicking up a momentary inferno in the wake of a shockwave that the exo feels straight into his aching joints.

The nearest Fallen are vaporised on impact, the further knocked off their pins, and the new Guardian rolls a massive burning hammer across their shoulders, then slams it into the ground, a gout of flame bursting under the tank. The servitor guarding it shrieks, and this strange Guardian barely dodges the blast as their super flares out with one final blow. His barrier’s up in the next moment, reinforcing Saint’s failing ward, the diamond Light kicking out a new burst of Solar that flash fries an onrushing sub-Captain.

It’s mesmerising, watching the stranger’s auto rifle chatter itself out of ammo into the swarm. Spin, dance, a Solar grenade shoved in a vandal’s face as the darting Ghost trades out the auto rifle for a heavy, growling machine gun.

For a moment, Saint thinks this newcomer might win. And in the next, the servitor hits his would-be saviour with a blast that sends him vanishing into a storm of crumbling masonry. There is nothing but silence and choking dust before the Fallen burst into a roar of victory.

Saint almost drops the Ward in defeat, when a chunk of stone whizzes past his barrier and smashes another sub-Captain straight in the face. 

The Ghost swaps out his Guardian’s guns for a bow, and a blur of arrows follow, Void sizzling through each of their targets, pop-pop-pop until the stranger bounds off the top of his Ward and clears the gap between Saint and the tank. A grenade flares against the servitor and the the Guardian skids, vanishing beneath the spider tank.

Saint feels the cast of a Solar super in his teeth as the tank bursts into a column of flame, shrapnel pinging off the Ward like hail. Standing in the ruins, the Guardian taps the maul on their shoulder a moment before it vanishes.

The ground is still smoking as the Guardian saunters over to him and knocks on the Ward.

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok,” the Ghost in his starlit shell says, little blue eye flickering into a smile. Saint can barely get the Ward to disengage, and when he does, the human-baseline reactions coded into his Exo’s body cause him to stumble.

The Guardian catches him as Gepetto and the new Ghost circle each other in greeting.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you,” the Guardian says, voice oddly flanged. Not an Exo’s voice, but not human either. 

“I was going to let them end me,” Saint stammers out. “I failed all of them. All the colonists. We thought it would be better here, but they were already here. I failed.” It feels miserable to vocalise it, and he feels so very, very small. “What good am I as a Guardian if I can’t save them?”

“You can’t… save everyone. But Saint… you’re still becoming. You have so many things you’re going to do, so many people who will depend on you.”

“I can’t. You can’t know that, and…” Saint pleads, and the Guardian and his Ghost share a look.

“Ok, look. We’ve already probably screwed the timeline, so…” the Ghost floats before him and weaves a magical city of Light before him. Great walls and a tower that scrapes the sky. “This is what the City looks like from when we’re from. Children play in the street and people sleep safe at night. And you help build this. You help make it what it is.”

Saint brushes his hand through the vision. “You’re from the future?”

“I know it sounds bizarre, but…” the Ghost clacks his shell in frustration when the Guardian reaches up and pulls off his helmet. Saint doesn’t breathe, he’s an Exo after all, but his body still simulates the reaction, and he feels like he can’t when he sees the Guardian.

Messy purple hair sticks out from under his helmet’s underhood, curling against pale violet skin lit from within by a faint, opalescent light, oddly luminous green eyes crinkled in a sad little smile. “What are you?” Saint blurts out as Gepetto zips behind him. “You are… purple?”

“My people are out there,” he jerks a thumb towards the sky. “They’ll be coming to Earth soon, to help you, to help the City and her people. But right now, there’s a man out in the Reef who’s listening to a relay of your distress call,” he tips his head, pushing back the underhood to scratch through his messy hair. His eyes are haunted with ancient tears. “It’s tearing him apart, knowing nothing he can do will get him here in time to save you or your colonists, and in turn, it makes him make some decisions that get him dead and gets you… me.” 

“You have your memories?” Saint whispers, ignoring the hysterical thought that he was talking to his favourite colour in human form.

“Some. Enough to be miserable, I think.” The Guardian laughs, then holds out his hand to his Ghost. The shotgun that materialises is the most elegant weapon Saint-14 has ever seen. “And I’ve been holding onto this for you. It’s time she went back to her rightful wielder.”

The balance is absolutely perfect and it fits in his hand like it was made for him. And the fear is cold where a human heart would beat. “I can’t take this,” Saint tries to give it back. “I am just.. too afraid.”

“A very wise friend of mine once said, fear is ok. It gives you a reality check. You just can’t let it blind you to what you’re truly capable of,” the Guardian’s smile warms and Saint feels it in that cold place in his chest.

“Mouse, I can feel the Sundial pulling us back,” the Ghost says suddenly and Saint takes an abortive step towards his saviour.

“Wait! Will I see you again?”

The smile turns into a chuckle. “The next time you see me, it’ll be the first time I ever see you. Time travel sucks.”


	2. Mouse

Tower plaza is in chaos as Saint-14 steps out of transmat, warning tape fluttering around a suspiciously guardian-sized hole in the Tower’s wall, frames puttering about through the massive puddles with masonry and tools. 

Shaxx is leaning over a railing, yelling unhelpful hints to the frames as Saint climbs the steps to meet him. “I am gone for what, a day? Two? And you break my tower?”

Shaxx doesn’t bother to look at him. “You missed all the excitement, Saint. A newborn put Zavala through the tower. Bastion rezzed him about a hundred feet in.” The former warlord cackles, gesturing to his Ghost. “I’ve watched the security video five times.”

The air before Shaxx’s Ghost flickers, the scene showing the raging storm of the night before. Saint’s simulated breath catches as he sees the Guardian in rags and Fallen armour wheel around and hit Zavala hard enough that the cameras flare out for a moment. He holds up a hand to the Ghost to freeze the image. “Can you zoom in?”

The grainy footage expands and he looks at the tangled violet hair and the terrified light in those luminous eyes. “He’s Awoken.”

“Once in a while, we get another one.” Shaxx looks down to watch Zavala pass below. “This one’s all flash, no pan, though, if you get my drift.”

“I do not get your drift, no. Where is he now?” He tries very hard not to sound excited. No one appreciates his excitement anyways.

“In a holding cell down in the walls,” Shaxx says. It’s impossible to tell for sure under his helmet, but it sounds like he’s struggling to keep a straight face. “Why, do you think this is that Guardian Saviour you keep babbling about?”

“Hmph. Wait, we do not have holding cells for Guardians,” Saint says very carefully.

“No, it’s just a broom closet. He’s too stupid to realise it’s not a holding cell,” Shaxx’s voice breaks just a little bit. His Ghost’s feed flickers to an interior camera where the newborn sits with his knees drawn up , his Ghost nestled on his shoulder.

“He’s not stupid, he’s terrified,” Saint rumbles and Shaxx finally turns around.

“He’s a risen. A guardian,” Shaxx corrects himself inline, then continues. “Strong enough to shrug off a direct blow from Zavala’s fists of havoc. What has he possibly got to be afraid of?”

Saint ignores him, quickly heading down into the bowels of the walls. The closet is off one of the armoury rooms, and in the gloom, the newborn’s eyes gleam like a raccoon in a sparrow’s headlights. “Hello,” Saint says kindly. “May I come in?”

The newborn and his Ghost share a look, and then the Ghost clacks his shell as Gepetto inches towards him. “Ok. I’m Stellamaris. This is my Guardian, Mouse,” he says with a tinge of pride.

“It is very nice to meet you both,” Saint sits down across from Mouse in the light from the hallway. “Mouse, that is a very small name for a very strong Guardian, I think. Mouse, I will take my helmet off. I may look scary to you, but I promise, you are very safe with me, yes?”

The newborn only nods, his green eyes widening as he sees the Exo’s face. “What.. what are you?” he whispers, his flanged voice a rusty rasp.

“Ah! I am an Exo, like you are Awoken, yes?” His faceplate flexes into a smile and he leans forward to let Mouse gingerly touch his face. Even though Guardians never age, he looks so much younger to Saint. He’s haggard and stubbled, but his pretty eyes are devoid of the haunted past behind them, and bright with wonder as he runs a thumb across the edge of Saint’s cheek. 

“I’m… I’m not a Guardian. I’m just…” Mouse looks at his hand. “Afraid.”

“Ah, it’s ok to be afraid,” Saint pats his knee. “It is a reality check. A friend once told me, you just cannot let it blind you to what you can truly do. And you. You are going to be amazing, I think. You just need time to become who you are going to be.”

The opalescent sheen of Mouse’s face flushes faintly magenta and he ducks into the tattered armour. 

With a grunt, Saint pushes to his feet, then offers Mouse a hand. “Now come on. We will get you food and some clothes that do not stink of Fallen. Then, we will find you the place where you will begin.”

“Thank you for being so nice,” Stel says shyly. “It feels like everyone’s still a little angry at us.”

Saint laughs, his chest so full of warmth he feels like he might burst into a Solar flare and claps Mouse on the back so hard it almost sends the smaller man flying. “Purple is my favourite colour. How could I not?”


End file.
